And Then There Was None
by Shirasaka Konoe
Summary: Then, there was no more fear. A very light Sandy/Pitch? Proceed with caution, enjoy! :D


**Title:** And Then There Was None

**Summary:** And then, there was no more fear.

**Pairing:** A very light Sandy/Pitch?

**Rate:** K+

**Disclaimer:** I do not own. Believe me, there would be none of these amazing characters if I did.

**Pointless Rambling:** I don't know. I just had to get this out of my head. For the 'real form' of Sandy, you can look into , but I'm kinda lazy to put the address here, so, well, sorry. And, I'm using the 'The bad thing about being a Guardian is that losing enough believers will make you disappear' thingy, so I suppose spirit wouldn't disappear from lack of believe like Guardians. I hope that's alright with you.

Enjoy~! :D

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When spirits disappeared, what would happen to them? Would they be reborn as human? Would they go to heaven or hell—if those existed?

Would they just… disappear? Like that? Without any trace?

He would really like to find that out before he experience that. After all, expecting the expected, though knowing it will be terrifying or hurt, was better than expecting the unexpected.

And he was currently expecting his disappearance. Not that he would get that, he wasn't a Guardian; not even the lack of believer would make him disappear. Which might be better than lying on his bed in his cold, dark room; wanting to move but didn't have the strength to, waiting and… just waiting. For no one knew what.

He puffed his breath. His bed didn't feel that comfortable anymore. He found it weird; for him to want even a bit of comfort despite him being the Nightmare King. He shouldn't want that. It was too… humanly.

Of course there was nothing wrong with being humanly. If he wasn't the embodiment of fear.

Being human—humanly—would lead him to wanting comfort. Wanting more happiness. Sweetness, love, camaraderie, safety, bliss, delights… lack of fear. He, of course, couldn't stand that.

Letting out a frustrated groan, he pressed his eyes closed.

He wished he could sleep. Then he wouldn't need to worry about anything else. But then again, like he used to say, he would say sweet dreams, but there was nothing left. A nightmare would make him fear. Fear would be an invitation to the Nightmares lurking in his lair, and he was tired of working on getting rid of his fear, he refused to do that again if it could be avoided.

Oh, great. He wanted to cry. He wanted to just disappear. And that would bring him back to the beginning of the story. What happened when spirits disappear? He was distressed.

Then a light seeped to his room. It was golden.

"Sandman," his voice was hoarse. The little man peeked from behind the wall, walked past the entrance, and then waved his hand and smiled widely at him. "Why are you here?"

There was an image of him, an arrow, and a bed.

Pitch laughed weakly, saying, "I suppose I could use some help, yes."

Small hand touched his forehead and stroked it. It was ticklish. "I couldn't get to sleep if you keep on doing that."

Sandy pulled his hand with wide eyes. There were quick and fuzzy images above his head, panic was in his eyes.

The Nightmare King shook his head. "No, it wasn't disturbing. Just… ticklish. It's probably because your hands are small." Not 'probably', in fact.

Sandy backed away for a moment, tapping his chin as he did so, and eventually smiled in delight. He found a way.

Concentrating on his sand, he made it whirled around him and enveloped him in a shining mini tornado. Once it dissipated, there was a rather young man, tall and lithe instead of short and pudgy, sharp chin and not that round face, and high cheekbones, leaving the only same things were the warm eyes and lips that curled into a smile. His hands weren't of those baby-hands size anymore, and they were definitely warm. He raised it, as if to show it to Pitch and said, "Lookie, I have two hands I could use now."

"You know, you can always make a fake hand out of your sand instead of transforming."

And Sandy slapped his forehead in realization.

A moment later, they were both silent, Sandy's hand on Pitch's head, stroking softly at the black tangle of hair. Pitch's eyes were slowly narrowing, his mind drifted away. He broke the silence first, though—not that Sandy could anyway. "It's rare to see you in your real form. I've only see it once before, in fact."

Sandy nodded. He remembered that Pitch was way older than him or any other spirits. He was as old as The Man in the Moon, if not older. So, twice wasn't really a big number. But considering other spirit that had seen him like this was only The Moon, and it was only once too, he would say that was quite much.

"You used to be a brunette, back when you were human."

Oh? Pitch was not talking about when he was a spirit? He cocked his head in confusion.

"I remember hiding under the bed of a boy name Sanderson once. But I didn't… couldn't have the heart to jump out and scare him. I wonder why that was," Pitch's voice was getting drowsy and soft. "Maybe, because instead of being scared of the Boogeyman, he told me to accompany him as he slept because he didn't really like sleeping alone."

Ah, now Sandy remembered that. It was the first time he slept in his own room instead of being with his parents.

Pitch opened his mouth again, what came out was barely a whisper; "I want to hear your voice again."

It was a plea.

He smiled and leaned down, whispering so softly to Pitch's ear; "Sleep."

For once in centuries, Pitch found himself comfort. And bliss. And delight.

It was also the first time he felt that it was alright to be humanly—or to be human, even.

"And sweet dreams," Sandy said again, this time louder than a whisper, and he leaned down, and kissed tenderly the Nightmare King's forehead.

There was a soft rustling sound and the Sandman knew what would happen. He scooted closer to the Boogeyman and held him close and tight, so tight because he knew this would be the first, also last, and only time he could.

The next moment, there was no one in his arms. Tears slithered down his face; they were golden. Nightmare would be gone if there was dream.

The fear was finally gone, leaving only sweet dreams of his behind.

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**END**

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So, what do you think?

Love and… ooh, cakes~!  
Shirasaka Konoe


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